


An Uphill Battle We're Always Fighting

by noxic



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Novelists, Existential Crisis, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Mutual Pining, Story within a Story, Yuuri and Victor are both professional authors, millennial problems, will add tags as necessary - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 08:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18149639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxic/pseuds/noxic
Summary: Yuuri is a bestselling author with a guilty pleasure hobby--he writes fanfiction. One day, in the wake of a flopped publication, he finally completes a fic for his favorite novel by Viktor Nikiforov. He knows it will get comments and likes and probably be shared on twitter, but what he doesn't expect is for Nikiforov himself to publicly reply and retweet the link, asking for the anonymous author to reveal himself.





	An Uphill Battle We're Always Fighting

_ "Yuuri, don't get discouraged. With everything that's happened in the last few months, we knew this novel wasn't going to be as popular as we originally hoped. You can still bounce back from this with the next one." _

Celestino's voice over the phone falls on deaf ears as Yuuri sits, slumped over on his bed while tears fall freely from his eyes. He bites his lip to stifle an ugly sob as it wracks his body, but it's apparently loud enough for Celestino to hear.

_ "Ah, well…"  _ his agent sounds uncomfortable—there's no surprise there. He never was very good at dealing with Yuuri's breakdowns.  _ "I'll give you some time to collect yourself. Give me a call when you're feeling better, and we'll talk about a next step. Try to get some rest, Yuuri." _ With a click, the line goes dead.

Now that he's entirely by himself, Yuuri lets everything go. Disappointed sobs and pained whimpers make their way out of his mouth against his will, and every short, shallow breath he takes as he hyperventilates brings him one moment closer to blacking out. At least then, he wouldn't have to think about the  _ massive _ failure he'd managed to bring about for himself.  _ Four-thousand copies _ . If he were younger, less experienced in the publishing industry and less well-known, that figure would have been monumental. But for Yuuri, who is coming up on twenty-six and has clawed his way onto numerous bestseller lists with all of his previous publications, four-thousand is a  _ joke _ .

He's almost sure that his publisher won't want anything to do with him after this.

Yuuri grabs fistfuls of his hair and flops backwards on his bed, letting the tears keep flowing down the sides of his face. This is not how he wanted to spend the days following his return to his home in Hasetsu after years abroad in America. At nineteen, he had earned a scholarship to a university in Detroit and had made the painstaking choice to stay in the country while he started up his career as a writer. He had visited home, of course, but never for longer than a few weeks at a time. There was always work to be done, and his agent preferred that he stay close to home-base while working on projects. 

He wonders if Celestino is as disappointed as Yuuri is.

He lets the tears make a mess of his face and dribble into the longer ends of his hair for a few more minutes before deciding that he simply can't cry anymore. His eyes are puffy and itchy, and probably redder than they were ever meant to be. Yuuri sniffles. He hates failure, but he hates what comes after even more. He hates the way he gets—that he's so sensitive. He hates the feeling that his emotions are overflowing, spilling out of some invisible container made of glass that is ready to shatter at any moment.

He hates it, of course, until he doesn't anymore.

Heaving a great, put upon sigh, Yuuri sits up and runs a hand down either side of his face before reaching for his laptop, sitting abandoned at the foot of his bed.

His first instinct when he opens it is to pull up a blank document and let his consciousness spill out onto the page. But with the word processor open and his cursor hovering above the  _ 'Create New' _ button, his eyes flick to the sidebar displaying his recently opened documents. One in particular catches his eye.

With a rush of emotion leftover from Celestino's phone call, Yuuri feels a great surge of motivation. His fingers itch as he opens the document entitled ' _ Stay Close to Me _ –  _ final chapter _ ' and he feels the iron wall of writer's block begin to fall away piece by piece as it loads up on the screen.

This project is…not entirely by his own design. Fanfiction, he knows, is a vastly underappreciated art form. And, while he knows realistically that he has not done anything  _ particularly _ shameful with his power over the written word, he would still likely  _ die _ if anyone found out about  th is guilty pleasure hobby. Thinking of the scenario makes him feel like he needs to justify his actions.  _ It's just a side hobby _ , he might claim to his affronted readers.  _ It's just a creative outlet! _ He can hear Celestino's voice inside his head, in a tone that the older man would never take with Yuuri in real life:  _ Why can't you put that kind of emotional release into your paid work, Yuuri!? _

It is difficult to explain the logic he sees behind it. Novels are for telling stories that come from a place of imagination, with consideration for his own world and the characters inside. His purpose is to entertain, but also to make his readers  _ feel _ and  _ think _ about things that are bigger than their own lives. It feels profound, and yet professional in a way that publishing self-indulgent drivel online does not. Fanfiction is a place where his only purpose is to make himself happy. Anything beyond that is nothing more than a byproduct of his own indulgence.

Yuuri has been working on this piece for close to seven months in between other projects, uploading each chapter as they become publishable following revision via Phichit, a close friend from the States. Phichit is a saving grace, most days. Yuuri can't imagine how embarrassing it would be for a world-class author to get caught up by something stupid like faulty punctuation or wonky syntax. Not, of course, that anyone would know it was him. He still wouldn't want to be harassed online by strangers who had no idea what he did for a living.

But this piece is special, and deserves the watchful eye that Phichit affords him even when he has nothing to offer in return. The focus is his favorite novel of all time,  _ Antov’s Gold _ , about a figure skater trying to win gold at the olympics while recovering from a nervous breakdown the year before. The story itself is simple: as the main character makes his return to the world of figure skating, he becomes inspired by a new skater with tremendous talent. He decides to try his best to win gold that season so that he can have a chance to meet the new skater on equal ground after his fall from grace. Essentially, it’s a story about perseverance and self-discovery, but what Yuuri loves most about it is that it’s also a story about authenticity. In the process of finding his calling, the protagonist also learns the value of self-expression and truth in spite of his repressed upbringing and stuffy, conservative family.

The author, Viktor Nikiforov, is a man after Yuuri’s own heart. He’s been in the publishing game for much longer than Yuuri, and his bibliography is much more extensive, but Yuuri has never been intimidated by things like that. What he does find intimidating, however, is the way Nikiforov seems to have a direct link into the contents of Yuuri’s heart--how he knows exactly which heartstrings to pluck to have Yuuri aching for the plight of his characters and bursting into tears at the sight of a name, italicized and tagged as a harsh whisper. Nikiforov is a genius, and that’s why this feels just a little bit like blasphemy.

No author is infallible, and Nikiforov is no exception (even if it pains Yuuri just a little bit to admit it). For as much as he loves  _ Antov’s Gold _ and its many complex characters and plot lines, he is particularly bothered by one aspect of it: Antov’s girlfriend, Misha.

The relationship is present in the story from the beginning of the book, mentioned in chapter one and remaining in the background through the epilogue. But somehow, that’s all it is, and it drives Yuuri right out of his mind. Antov’s journey is about expressing himself and growing out of his parents’ repressive culture; the impetus for his personal growth and the figure that stands at the crux of his development is Cade, the American figure skater who Antov dreams of competing against. Throughout the novel,  _ Cade  _ is the one who Antov gives attention to, and  _ Cade _ is the one who inspires Antov to grow and to  _ love _ . Misha, on the other hand, is given about five paragraphs and a messy almost-break-up scene before being shoved into the backdrop of Antov’s life yet again. The whole thing gives Yuuri a sour taste in his mouth--it’s the taste of misogyny and thinly-veiled homophobia.

But somehow, it doesn’t feel like Nikiforov’s intention. The careful way the narration describes Antov’s fixation with Cade’s skating--his body, his art, and his passion--is too damning. Misha’s scenes feel forced and empty, like they were added as an afterthought, never meant to exist except as justification for Antov’s heterosexuality--as plausible deniability of Antov’s obvious attraction to the American skater.

When Yuuri had first read  _ Antov’s Gold _ as a high school student, he’d been furious with the story’s outcome in that department. But that was at the beginning of Nikiforov’s career, when his name wasn’t as well-known and Yuuri had no context for the budding author’s writing. After extensive Googling of the Russian name and a few hours on Wikipedia* , he was more sympathetic. He’d gone on to write essays about the novel in college and had even included it in his masters thesis on queer representation in global literature. But for all his thoughts and feelings and opinions about the work, it was only in the last seven months that he’d finally gotten himself together enough to take matters into his own hands.

_ Stay Close to Me _ is his love letter to  _ Antov’s Gold _ , but it is also something bigger. It is his message to Nikiforov-- _ I’m here. I hear you. I always have. _

The work is from Cade’s perspective following the end of  _ Antov’s Gold _ , after Antov decides to quit skating in order to coach him through his rise to stardom. Where Nikiforov had placed Cade on a pedestal to give his protagonist something to strive towards, Yuuri focuses on tearing apart the illusion of perfection that surrounds the American boy, leaning into his insecurities and flaws to create conflict with Antov that allows their relationship to truly blossom. Yuuri has spent the last seven months breaking down the star-crossed romance he’s enjoyed for over nine years and molding it into something that almost resembles reality.

He’s in the final chapter now, after months of buildup trying to translate years of frustration into something tangible and poignant. After more than twenty chapters of strife, it’s time for the resolution. It’s Cade’s confession of love to Antov at last, in the form of the most beautiful skating routine he’s ever performed. It takes place at the World Championship, on a huge plane of ice in front of thousands of watchful eyes. Cade, knowing that Antov will be watching, dives into a routine that starts out sweet and melodic before crashing into a crescendo that sends him flying over the ice like he’s floating. With every dip of his head and point of his toe, with each turn and arc and extension of an arm and every last rotation, he calls out to Antov.  _ I’m here _ , he says without words,  _ Please, see me _ .

He doesn’t look for Antov in the crowd, focusing on his movements and pouring every last piece of himself into the smooth movement of his body across the ice. He ends the routine with one hand on his heart and the other outstretched towards the place where he finally finds Antov’s form. It’s an unmistakable gesture, and there’s a beat in the story between the time when Cade’s routine finishes and the time when Antov finally moves. It’s a short three seconds stretched out into an eternity, in which Cade flashes back to the composition of his song,  _ Glass and Gold _ . Yuuri takes his time describing the story it tells, of a golden man who walks on a sheet of glass his whole life, thinking he’s seeing his reflection in the smooth surface when in reality, he’s looking into a window where another figure matches his every movement. They’re soulmates who spend their lives separated by a thin sheet of glass, never recognizing how close they are to one another. With the crash of a cymbal at the climax of Cade’s routine, the glass shatters and the two figures stumble into each other’s arms.

And then everything begins to move again, and Cade finds himself frantically, clumsily running across the ice towards the entrance where he sees Antov hurrying to meet him. He opens his mouth to call out for Antov, and the other man cuts him off with a kiss, practically tackling him in his hurry to press their lips together.

This, Yuuri thinks, is their moment of truth.

He spends the next two thousand words after that tying up loose ends and crafting an epilogue that will give him the satisfaction he’s been needing out of this story for his entire adult life. Misha gets the justice her character deserves in the form of a girlfriend who actually cares for her and a peace with Antov that keeps them friendly. Cade takes home a gold medal and begins planning his program for the following season, and Antov settles into coaching with a golden engagement ring hidden away in a little black box, knowing that he won’t need to wait long to give it to its intended recipient.

Their lives aren’t over, Yuuri knows, because he’s sure he’ll end up adding one-shots to his collection of AG fanfic, but he wants to give the characters the resolution he knows they deserve--that Nikiforov, for all his talent and genius, hadn’t been able to give them.

When he’s satisfied that he’s exhausted his need to give the story closure, Yuuri saves the document and sends it, along with a quick thank you, to Phichit. In his current emotional state vulnerable and wounded and desperate for validation in the wake of his catastrophic failure, he wants nothing more than to just publish it as-is and wait for the comments to roll in. Fortunately, this isn’t his first day on the job, and he knows exactly why that’s a horrible, horrible idea. The last thing he needs while feeling like he’s failed as a writer is to start getting comments about how badly he’s fucked up the ending to what is supposed to be his magnum opus.

There’s nothing left to do at this point until Phichit responds, and Yuuri knows that it will take his friend several hours to comb through and comment on the full chapter, so he powers down his laptop and shuts the screen, resolving to spend the rest of the day finding new ways to distract himself from the reality of his life. He’ll call Celestino tomorrow, but for now he just needs some time away.

 

He gets home late in the evening after spending the afternoon shopping for a birthday present for his sister and holed up in the local bookstore sifting through the new releases before buying Nikiforov’s latest book. After that he’d gone into a restaurant he’d been missing since he’d left Hasetsu, ordered a plate of fish and some dumplings, and read his way through several glasses of beer. Let it never be said that Yuuri Katsuki does not know how to enact self-care.

He says hello to his parents when he comes in and helps Mari finish cleaning up the inn’s dining room before going to his bedroom and settling into bed with his laptop. When he opens up his email, he has two recent messages from Phichit. The first is a simple,  _ Received! _ with a thumbs-up emoji, and the second is a paragraph of mostly keysmash and punctuation followed by a calm, well-organized paragraph of general notes to go along with what is probably extensive critique written into the actual document. Yuuri reads over this paragraph, then opens up the word doc and tries not to cringe at the colorful annotations and neon highlights. Phichit is too good to him, truly, but Yuuri doesn’t think he’ll ever not be just a tiny bit disappointed at receiving such thorough criticism.

He goes through the text slowly and methodically, backspacing and editing the text where it seems necessary, adding his own notes next to Phichit’s on some passages and resolving to come back them later. It takes several hours to get the story whittled down to what he thinks is acceptable, and by the time he’s ready to send it back to Phichit, it’s almost midnight. He gets ready for bed right after hitting send, not expecting to hear back until at least the next afternoon, assuming that Phichit isn’t busy with his own life as he so often is.

Yuuri is brushing his teeth when his phone lights up with a notification that he has an e-mail from Phichit. Surprised, he taps it open onto his phone screen, toothbrush hanging from his mouth.

_ Yuuri! _ it reads.  _ The revisions you made really cleared things up and I think it’s ready to go. Also, ASLKDFLAJSELAJWEPFOWKAJOPDSJFO!!!!!!!!!!! This is probably the best chapter!!! _

Yuuri smiles and sends a quick thank-you and a smiley face emoji. He receives a string of heart emojis in return almost immediately and huffs a quiet laugh. Phichit really is the best friend he could ask for.

Once he’s finished getting ready for bed, he pulls up his laptop one more time and drops the finished chapter into the publishing field of his favorite fanfiction website. He takes a few minutes to make sure the formatting is correct, then presses the little box on the story’s settings to mark it  _ Complete _ . He checks the preview, skimming through the chapter one final time, and then hits ‘publish.’ His next step is to turn off his email notifications, determined not to check his inbox until at  _ least _ the next day.

As he settles into bed, Yuuri wonders about how his conclusion will be received. He wonders if his publisher will drop him. He wonders what he’s supposed to do to salvage his reputation and what’s left of his career. He wonders if it even really matters. Thoughts chase themselves around his head, always circling back to cautious, complicated confusion that Yuuri doesn’t know how to deal with. And when he finally falls asleep, he dreams of stepping out onto a sheet of thin, reflective glass.

**Author's Note:**

> Yuuri and Phichit are the best boys. Also I'm not as good as they are so I don't spend that long editing so sorry for the inevitable errors... :]
> 
> *If you're curious what the Wikipedia page for LGBT rights in Russia looked like in 2009, don't worry bc I've got you covered:  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=LGBT_rights_in_Russia&oldid=312058159


End file.
